


if it's a drive back home

by brophigenia



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, Future Fic, Happy Ronan Lynch, Kissing, Multi, Polyamory, i just found this in my google docs and it made me smile, listen to a happy song and read this, so here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 01:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17214659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brophigenia/pseuds/brophigenia
Summary: “I wouldn’t miss your birthday,” Gansey says, affronted, in those glowing Virginian tones.(Listen, I love Ronsey so much it physically pains me. OT5 fic forever.)





	if it's a drive back home

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking I'd write a series of fics where the Gangsey Post tRK get together. Or maybe just a series of fics where people kiss Ronan Lynch because he deserves it. 
> 
> Please assume that everyone is in a happy and consensual and loving poly relationship. No cheating. No sadness.

Gansey grins wide and white, ivory-pale against the tanned backdrop of his cheeks, broad-shouldered like a god and long-flanked, besides. Terribly beautiful, and Ronan cannot take Gansey on a  _ good  _ day, but first thing in the morning, unguarded, with the light streaming in from the curtains, golden and new? Ronan is  _ undone.  _ Ronan is still mostly asleep and he is  _ undone.  _

“Hey,” he gravels, low and quiet, and stretches a bit languorously, indulgently. It’s odd to be able to afford this kind of ease, this kind of  _ happiness.  _ It is a quiet happiness, entirely unlike the one he used to have in this very bedroom, this bedroom in the house he grew up in, but also entirely unlike the misery he used to have in every  _ other  _ room, after his dad’s death (and before Gansey’s.) 

Gansey grins even wider, toes off his Sperries. He climbs into bed like he belongs there. Like he belongs all pressed up against Ronan. 

(He does. He  _ does.  _ Everything Ronan is belongs to Gansey; everything Ronan  _ has  _ is owed to Gansey.) 

“When’d you get in?” Ronan breathes, snuffling into Gansey’s throat. The skin is thin there, and soft, and impossibly  _ warm.  _ He’s summer-hot and Ronan presses his cold toes to Gansey’s calves, curling his knees around Gansey’s hips to contort himself enough to reach.

Gansey hums, jumps, laughs a bit breathlessly at the press of Ronan’s chilled skin. “Just now. Blue dropped me off— she and Henry are staying at Fox Way.” 

Ronan smiles, pleased and small. Hidden against Gansey’s skin.  _ My king,  _ he thinks, and would not ever say it out loud,  _ my king my king my king.  _

“I still can’t believe you drove all the way from Oaxaca.” Ronan mumbles, trying for  _ gruff  _ and ending up somewhere in the  _ touched  _ range. It’s hard to muster up the old bite— the old tooth and claw. Unhappiness is difficult to achieve, when you’ve got more than you ever thought you’d get in a million fucking years. 

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday,” Gansey says,  _ affronted,  _ in those glowing Virginian tones. A sugar baron in Ronan’s bed, and he can’t listen to any more of it without feeling as if he’ll spontaneously combust, so instead Ronan presses their lips together. 

Gansey kisses like he’s distracted by it— with his entire body, hands in hair and hips pressing forward and shoulders curling in to make a cocoon. To keep whoever he’s kissing safe, hidden, wrapped up in all the protection Richard Campbell Gansey III can offer. 

(Maybe he just kisses  _ Ronan  _ like that, though— it’s not like Ronan has any basis for comparison.) 

“Ridiculous,” Ronan mumbles, and falls back asleep to the sound of Gansey’s laugh, his  _ happy birthday,  _ his scent and the pleasure that comes from not being alone anymore. 

Adam will FaceTime later, and Sargent will no doubt show up to terrorize him, and Cheng will present him with some ridiculous souvenir from their far-flung adventures. 

For now, though, there is more sleep to be had. Ronan falls asleep, and Dreams. 

_ Dream me the world,  _ Gansey had once murmured in his ear, and Ronan had wanted him then with a ferocity like a house on fire, consumed. 

He still wants Gansey as much, but the fire has become a controlled burn instead of a wild thing raging out of control. Something to keep him warm, instead of something to turn him to hopeless cinders. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @ brophigenia.tumblr.com


End file.
